


Bite Me

by ForeverGroaning



Series: Vampire Jack [1]
Category: Borderlands
Genre: Biting, Collars, Eventual Smut, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Personal Assistant Rhys (Borderlands), Rhys is Handsome Jack's Personal Assistant, Slow Burn, Vampire!Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27178465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverGroaning/pseuds/ForeverGroaning
Summary: In an unfortunate turn of events, Jack has turned into a vampire, and Rhys is his favorite flavor.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Series: Vampire Jack [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983832
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

Jack shouldn’t have been surprised when he found out vampires were a thing on Pandora, however, someone _could_ tickle him surprised when he found out they were, in fact, real and very much a threat to him, specifically after he caught himself bit by one, wanting to pull him into their… tribe? Cult? Whatever they had called it when he came to. He easily cleared them out, but now, he’s facing problems he hoped he wouldn’t. Now, back on Helios, he found he couldn’t see himself in the mirror, save for his mask, which proved to be _highly_ unsatisfying, prompting him to dispose of all his mirrors in his office as per the new discovery. He had the top-secret, R&D department working on something for him to help, but seeing as that was the first, and only, instance of any type of vampires being heard of on Pandora - and he wiped them all out in a fit of rage -, it proved to be more difficult, which only fueled his frustrations more.

He kept everything under wraps, for the most part. His occasional craving for blood was easily sated when he paid top dollar for some black market imports, saying it was just wine because he ‘couldn’t stand the thought of being sober around these idiots’. Everyone seemingly accepted the answer, because, after all, who’d dare to question him? With the imported blood, his bloodlust was mildly sated, or at least, enough for him to have time to work on a special project of his own - injectors that he placed on his large canines to use when someone either pissed him off or he was nearly out of the imported blood - or both. 

The only downside to using his newfound mutation to his advantage? He’d learned that quickly that, if he drained someone fully without the injectors, they’d turn into creatures far worse than himself, attacking anyone and anything in sight. It was amusing at first, to release them on a few, unsuspecting embezzlers, yet they quickly grew to be an issue in the top-secret R&D department, injuring - or killing - his scientists. This ultimately led to him air locking them, it was far too irksome to find scientists to keep things under confidentiality than it was to just make more vampires.

This, of course, led to the decision for him to just leave the injects on all the time, and even if they were insanely annoying to wear; they weren’t nearly as annoying as trying to replace his scientists. Sure, they were irritating as all hell, but it was nothing a little chewing couldn’t solve. The other downside? He quickly discovered the injectors sedation seemingly held two contrasting reactions after mixing with his saliva, and he wasn’t sure why. It was only meant to be a mild sedative so he wouldn’t have to put much effort in, because as fun as it is to wrestle with someone, it was increasingly exhausting when he was trying to _not_ murder half of his goddamned space station. 

On one hand, the sedative would work as anticipated, making someone relax and just accept their fate. On the other, it’d seemingly spike their lust level up - which _of course_ raised Jack’s ego significantly -, making them a lustful mess. This side effect, of course, had adverse effects on him. It made things increasingly difficult and he’d have to inject far more of the cocktail than he wanted, which tended to make the blood far more bitter than he liked. He could’ve caved, fucked them senseless, and then killed them, however, quite frankly, he didn’t really have an interest in sticking his dick anywhere near the older men or over-zealous women. Sure, the first couple of times he had a few women writhing in lust beneath him was great, yet, after the third one, it grew to be annoying, and he found himself facing indifference each time it occurred. 

He’d adjusted though. He was Handsome Goddamn Jack, he had to adapt. And so, here he was today, making his way to the cafeteria part of the hub, smirking to himself at everyone rushing to get out of his path. He may be a vampire whose main sustenance was blood, however, despite that, he still found he needed normal food to keep himself from turning into a full-blown, ravenous monster after studying a few of the feral monsters he’d airlocked previously. He had smelled sweetness coming from this area before, yet this time, it stopped him in his tracks, the sweet, yet spicy smell overwhelming his sense of smell, leaving him with his eyes dilated, searching for who or what was making such a succulent odor. Instead of making the usual turns he needed to walk himself to the cafeteria, he found himself following the smell, turning corner after corner until he ended up in the programming department, his eyes spotting a younger, lanky male kneeled over, cybernetic hand pressed to his bleeding nose, a string of curses coming from him.

“Hey, Legs,” Jack said slowly, narrowing his eyes when the boy grew visibly rigid, turning his head to look up at him, turning a whole new sheet of white. He squatted down, reaching out to cup the chin, unconsciously taking a giant whiff of the sweet smell in front of him, his teeth clenching, fighting back the urge to murder this starry-eyed fanboy in broad sight. “Who did this to ya, Kiddo?”

“H-Handsome Jack?” The boy finally managed to squeak out, his hand dropping as he fell away, chin still staying in the large hand, his heart palpitating in his chest, enticing Jack further in.

“Boy, you’re sure slow, aren’t ya?” He mused, giving a sharklike smirk, trying his damndest to ignore the speedy heartbeat. “Handsome Jack here, in the flesh, Champ. Now, answer my question.”

He wished he could say the way the boy stammered random noises, trying to find the words wasn’t adorable, but rather annoying, however, he found he couldn’t. Combined with the intoxicating smell radiating from his bloodied nose, Jack was, unsurprisingly, swooned immediately. “U-um,” He finally managed, shakily pointing to the door next to him, giving up on trying to explain what had happened.

“Great, stay here, Pumpkin,” He answered, patting the slender shoulder before standing upright, walking through the door as it opened.

“Shouldn’t you be mopping up vomit or something, _Vice Janitor Rhys_?” Hugo called from his desk, words soaked in both delight and condescension, though he didn’t bother looking up, his eyes down on the paperwork in front of him, seemingly trying to appear busy. Jack felt his lips twist into a deep frown, his blown-pupil eyes narrowing on the leftover blood on the hand flipping through the paper, the male in front of him failing miserably to appear busy. When Rhys didn’t respond, he picked his head up, nearly falling out of his seat. “J-Jack, sir!”

“That’s Handsome Jack to you, Wallethead,” Jack answered, deadpan, making his way toward the desk. “Where’s Henderson?”

“Henderson had an… accident,” He gulped, eyes wide. As if right on cue, Henderson’s body gravitated past the giant window, leaving Jack with an arched brow. “So, I uh… I took his place.”

“ _Right_ ,” He said slowly, his undeniable urge for blood definitely not helping his temper any, even more so since he planned to personally take Henderson out for embezzlement later this week. “So what’s the story with Legs out there?” He mused, picking something off of the desk, trying his best to seem courteous.

“Legs? You mean Rhys Strongfork?” Vasquez asked slowly, carefully adjusting himself in the seat. Jack snorted at the last name, yet said nothing, his heterochromatic eyes burning holes in the male across from him - he’d seen the paperwork on him before, just didn’t have a face to the name; or at least, he didn’t care to put one. “Funny story, actually,” He started, pridefully puffing his chest out in what Jack could only assume was a show of dominance. “He was supposed to get this cushy job, right? Overheard it when he was talking to his friend. So I decided I’d just save him the trouble and take it from him. Great, right?” Jack hummed, not really caring, tossing the glass decoration up and down in his hand, judging its weight. “So, anyway, I demoted him to vice janitor, because the brat needs to learn his place.”

“And the bloodied nose?”

“He was less than pleased,” Vasquez said with a shrug, mimicking how Jack leaned back in his chair. Disgusting.

“Is that right?” He asked, his grip tightening on the glass ball. “You do know,” He started, slamming the ball down on the desk, hearing it shattering beneath his calloused hand, but he didn’t care, his hands were considerably too calloused to be cut so easily, plus an easy nick or two would heal easily - a perk of the Vampirism. “I personally approved the promotion,” He said with fake interest, moving toward Hugo’s desk, allowing his fingers to trail, definitely not getting off to the smell of fear coming from the black-haired man. “And you know what just pisses me off?” A loud gulp. Jack smirked, his hand reaching out, snatching Hugo up by the scruff of his shirt. “When people fuck with _my_ decisions.” The pinned man let out a string of apologies, pleading with Jack, yet he didn’t care - his bloodlust was far too high for him to, especially since he could smell the subtlest hint of the sweet, spicy smell on him. The smell he’d decided to lay claim to on his way through the corridors. Before even a minute passed, Jack sank his fangs into the thick neck, feeling the male slump against him moments later, all signs of a struggle quickly dissipating while he drank to his fill. He wasn’t what he liked, but he’d do, for now.

Maybe two minutes later, when the blood had stopped pouring out, Jack retracted his fangs from the neck, tongue brushing over the bit of blood left on them, dropping the bloodless body to the ground with a grunt, hand wiping his face clean. His mind was racing, just _why_ was he so upset over something so insignificant, like a code monkey being hurt? Was it the smell that was singing to him, asking for him to help?   
Probably.

Was he going to do something about it?  
Also probably.

Calling a special cleanup crew to the office, he straightened his many layers, exiting the room to find the long-legged boy fidgeting with his fingers, the blood on his face smeared, but mostly off. Hearing the doors open, he turned to look at Jack, his ECHO eye shining brightly in worship, brown eye twinkling in delight. “Rhys, right?” He asked, licking his finger, cupping the slender face, wiping excess blood off before smearing it on his own clothes - saving the smell to keep him calm for the rest of the day -, biting back a smug grin at the extremely flushed face in front of him.  
“Y-yes, sir,” Rhys stammered out, his face hot from the weirdly affectionate gesture, practically melting in Jack’s touch.   
“Consider it your lucky day. You’re my new personal assistant. Come,” He said, beckoning his fingers for Rhys to follow once he released him, heading back toward the route to the cafeteria. He could hear the heartbeat beating rapidly in Rhys’s chest behind him, bringing a satisfied smirk on his face. Maybe being a vampire wouldn’t be as boring as he thought. He’d get a free, calming smell any time he left a meeting that annoyed him, now.

Rhys, of course, was nearly vibrating from happiness, not only from being personally addressed by Jack, but also having been weirdly, intimately caressed by him earlier, not once, but twice. He wasn’t sure if the older male had realized his thumb brushed over the bottom of his lower lip or not, but he was, and that alone sent his fanboying heart soaring, and the slight grooming on top of it? Even better. And now, his _personal assistant_? Someone needed to pinch him, he had to have died, for not even his dreams were this sweet.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack had given Rhys a desk in his office literally the same day, making sure he was near as he handed off paperwork after paperwork, project after project, purposely lingering a bit too long at his assistant’s desk nearly every time he found an excuse to go over there - and there were many; ‘I dropped my pen’ (he didn’t, he just threw it), ‘I’m making sure you’re not screwing me over’ (he knew Rhys wouldn’t), etc - to enjoy the sheer smell radiating off the younger male. Over the course of the month he was his assistant, Rhys had noticed particular things about Jack that he’d never expected - he always had a clear tumbler full of red, mystery liquid and a less-than-delicately chewed straw on his desk, and he (surprisingly) had no mirrors in his office, nor did he like garlic, strangely. 

Today, though, his curiosity got the best of him, as he shuffled through another stack of freshly completed and organized paperwork. “What’s really in your cup, anyway?” Rhys finally asked, hearing Jack hum in amusement, though he didn’t bother looking up, not even as he approached the desk with notes from the R&D meeting earlier. “I know it’s not wine, you don’t smell of alcohol,” He stated, heart hammering in his chest at his questioning.

Keeping his face down, he had to fight back a laugh, relishing in the fast heartbeat making the smell even more enjoyable. “It’s strawberry juice,” He responded, a smirk on his face, having to rack his brain for red juices. Rhys had a good looking body with legs Jack could only imagine felt like heaven wrapped around him, but damn, he did think he was stupid when it came to common sense. Or maybe he was blinded by his admiration for him - it was pretty obvious it was blood, Rhys had seen the top-secret budget reports, he knew it was black market things.

“Strawberry juice?” He mused, tilting his head. He didn’t believe that for a second, however, he’d never call Jack out on it. He had a sneaking suspicion of what Jack was, predominantly from the entire  _ month _ everyone thought he was dead before resurfacing, demanding information on odd things - and the budget reports didn’t help, nor did the gold guards on his canines. 

“Yeah, you want a taste?” He asked with a smirk, shifting his gaze from the stack of papers on his desk to the man standing across from him, offering the half-empty tumbler to the scrawny boy across from him, the half-chewed straw spinning from his side to Rhys’s.

“N-no, I’m okay,” Rhys answered, blushing furiously under the playful look he was given, eyes glancing at the wiggling straw briefly. Jack had mostly kept the vampire thing under lock and key, however, he found he had an odd sense of trust in the man before him. Plus, it was entertaining to see how long it’d take for Rhys to figure it out himself. Honestly, he’d overloaded him with work after his secretary found out the truth and he had to ‘take care’ of him, by sending him down to the secret development area for them to drain him of blood, then dispose of the body in space. Sure, he could’ve drained him himself, though, it’d make it more obvious for Rhys to accidentally catch him, and it was entirely more fun to watch Rhys try to put two and two together. But, since he had overloaded Rhys with paperwork, taking calls, arranging meetings - typical secretary things -, he figured he’d reward him with the vague truth, what would a little harm poking Rhys with the truth do?

“Any other prying questions just eatin’ at ya, Pumpkin?” He questioned, taking the notepad from his assistant, dropping it on the other pile of notes Rhys had taken for him earlier in the day, before he’d come in.

“A few, but I don’t want to make you angry,” Rhys mumbled in return, cybernetic hand rubbing the back of his neck. Jack hummed, gazing at him with curious eyes. He’d noticed that Rhys rubbing the back of his neck was more of a nervous twitch - something that he also added to the ‘adorable’ category. Any time he lingered too long at his desk, Rhys instinctively rubbed the back of his neck, always drawing Jack’s attention to it, his mind racing with thoughts of how  _ good _ it’d feel to sink his teeth into the pale flesh.

“Well, don’t friggin’ keep me in suspense,” He stated, motioning for the cybernetic man to continue, snapping himself out of those thoughts. He couldn’t hurt Rhys - or rather, he wouldn’t; Rhys was more competent than anyone he’d hired as his PA in years.

“U-um… Why don’t you have any mirrors? I mean, like, I know you know you’re handsome, so I just… Um… I expected a lot of mirrors,” He blushed furiously when the CEO erupted with laughter, feeling stupid already.

“I  _ could _ have mirrors, but it’s not like I can see myself when I look into ‘em,” He answered wholeheartedly, but Rhys just blinked, caught off guard by the answer. “Buuuut, thanks for the handsome compliment, Champ. Always good to hear it from an  _ adoring _ fan.”

“O-okay, um… That was uh… that was deep,” He said offhandedly, purposely ignoring the comment after his answer, which only humored Jack more at the denial Rhys had. “What about garlic?”   
“Makes me sick,” He answered, leaning back in his chair, smirking up at the boy, watching Rhys furrow his brows, lips pulling into a delicious pout. “Anything else?”

Rhys shook his head, although he remained in front of the desk, fidgeting his hands together, bi-colored eyes meeting the heterochromatic ones taking him in from across the desk. “Well… actually,” He started when Jack leaned forward, ready to resume reviewing the reports from accounting. “Why did you pick me for your assistant? I’m sure there were more qualified people. Not that I’m complaining! It’s an honor to work directly under you, I just, um...” He added the last part in a hurry, visibly flustered, his words turning into ramblings before he just shut up before he embarrassed himself further, trying to focus on enjoying the sandalwood and gunpowder musk coming from Jack. A secret thing he came to enjoy quite a bit; it didn’t help that he’d filed the smell away in memory, specifically because his boss would linger at his desk, leaning over him to correct notes, getting a bit too close, placing his hand on his shoulder, whispering things to him - and now he had an ill-timed boner thinking about Jack murmuring dirty things in his ear with that low, velvet voice of his.  _ Great. _

Jack leaned forward, already noticing the rapid heartbeat coming from his little assistant, the flushed face not helping Jack’s odd attraction to him. “I promoted you because I wanted to, Rhysie. Is that a problem?”

“N-no, sir,” He stammered, backing up a bit, his tent on full display, though Jack decided to grace him with  _ some _ mercy and not point it out.

“Don’t call me sir unless we’re in a meeting,” He stated with an amused grin. “Get back to work.”

“Yes, Jack,” He said as  confidently as he could, taking his seat back at his desk, resting his head in his hands for just the briefest of moments, burning face feeling mildly relieved from the cold metal of his cybernetic, left hand. “We have a meeting with accounting in ten minutes,” He announced, minimizing the notification in his ECHO eye.

“Great, get ready to take notes, then, Kiddo.”

Rhys stayed quiet, saying nothing for a few beats, cautiously lowering his hands when he felt like his face had cooled off. “Can you not call me that? Please? I can deal with champ, but kiddo just... Please?”

The CEO hummed, leaning back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, staring at the furiously blushing assistant to the side of him. “I’ll consider it.” And that was the truth, as much as he enjoyed poking and teasing at the cybernetic man, he was finding it increasingly difficult to leave him alone at his desk. The thoughts Jack had of bending him over and taking him had crossed his mind several times a day, although, given his… Mutation - for lack of a better word -, he found himself unsure about doing anything remotely sexual with  _ anyone _ , particularly Rhys. As painful as it was for him to admit it, he did find himself having a small, reserved bit of care for him, though, the scent didn’t help matters any, always providing a calming environment for him to relax in after chewing someone’s head off - both literally and metaphorically.

-

During the meeting, Jack decided to play with Rhys a bit, purposely bumping his knee with his, chuckling when the cybernetic man blushed furiously, his left, cybernetic hand skipping across the page slightly, messing up whatever word he was writing. Frankly, he wasn’t listening to the accountants droning on, he’d already seen the reports earlier in the day, and therefore, he had a rough idea of what was going on, plus, that’s what his PA was here for - to take notes so he could tune out the boring meeting. It was no secret that Rhys held high regards for Jack, maybe even a mild crush on him, and Jack was happy to indulge him slightly - after all, he  _ did _ smell delicious, and he was good looking, not as good looking as Jack himself was, though he was undoubtedly up there in rankings.

Gliding his tongue over the tip of his left fang, he found himself wondering how his little assistant would react to the sedative in them; would he be a horny, begging mess? Or a complete deadweight? The thought of the first outcome sent a jolt to his clothed girth, a smirk on his face at the thought, his mind descending further into that idea - would he even  _ need _ to use his fangs to get Rhys to be a whining mess? Definitely not. The way he looked at Jack was the way he imagined people looked at gods - it wasn’t overly creepy as most of his fans did, rather, endearing, in its own, little way, worshipping him for all that he was, and then some; granted, a lot of his fans did that, but they obnoxiously tried to touch and prod at him any chance they got. Rhys, though? Rhys never did. Maybe once or twice in passing, however, it was only if he stumbled, was completely terrified, or excited - to which he’d promptly apologize for immediately after. 

Determining that he wanted to push his PA’s boundaries, he reached his right hand over, under the table, squeezing Rhys’s thigh, just above his knee, feeling the muscles grow taut under his grip, he chuckled to himself, daring a glance at the younger male’s face, saving the flushed cheeks and pleading, shifting eyes to memory, observing as he continued to take notes, however messy they may be now as he hastily tried to catch up from Jack’s incessant distractions. And then, the worst thing happened when he slid his hand further up his thigh.

Rhys got a papercut. 

Jack took a sniff of the air, his mouth growing moist as the intoxicating scent filled the air, his mind immediately telling him he needed to taste it, eyes watching as the drop of blood rolled down the long, pale finger. “Everyone out,” He declared harshly, interrupting the presentation, not even sparing a glance at the accountants rushing out. “Not you,” He growled at Rhys, who had started to get up, his cut finger in his mouth. 

Rhys felt a chill run down his spine, the blown-pupil CEO staring at him as if he were a full-course dinner, ready to be feasted upon. “J-Jack?” He asked softly, pulling his cut finger from his mouth. A sinking feeling crept into his gut, weighing him down to his spot, mesmerized by the emerald and sapphire eyes burning into him. 

Saying nothing, Jack pulled the finger to his lips, giving it a soft kiss and slight lick, forcing down a moan at how delectable Rhys tasted - sweet, but spicy, like honey on a spice cake. Rhys involuntarily shuddered at the intimate gesture, swearing he felt something wet brush against the wound, although he wouldn’t dare accuse Jack of such a thing - after all, Jack wasn’t into him, right? Right.

“You taste  _ exactly _ how you smell,” Jack murmured finally - with emphasis on ‘exactly’ -, his eyes harboring something Rhys couldn’t place, sending electricity coursing through him, though the pleased voice unsurprisingly didn’t help his mild arousal to the older man sitting in front of him, his pants sporting slight-chub mostly from the teasing touches earlier.

“What?” He faintly asked, trapped in place under the stare. “What does that mean, Jack?”

Jack regarded him with conflicted eyes, before standing up, leaving the room without Rhys, storming off to somewhere else. He had to get away from Rhys before he hurt him, he actually cared about the little assistant, even if he didn’t want to fully admit it to himself. Rhys, however, remained where he was, frowning at what Jack said, arousal suddenly on the back burner, his mind racing. Just what the hell did ‘you taste exactly how you smell’ mean? In a probably horrible decision, Rhys determined he’d get answers, even if it killed him, his skag-leather boots clacking against the floor as he ran to catch up with Jack, his hand gripping Jack’s wrist, just barely, causing Jack to still, glaring at Rhys with bloodlust. The whole reason he’d left was so he  _ wouldn’t _ hurt Rhys, the smell had unsurprisingly brought out his vampiric urge to  _ hurt, feed, kill  _ in him, however, it also brought the  _ protect, run, don’t hurt _ urge.

“Jack,” He said slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, feeling small under Jack’s predatory stare. “What did you mean by that? What’s going on?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at the shaky, pale hand on his wrist, using what little willpower he had left to yank his wrist away, turning his back to his assistant. “Go home, Rhys.”

Rhys bit his lip, going against all better judgment to push further; he knew he was treading into dangerous territory, but Jack had him worried, the look on his face of sheer panic mixed with anger had him concerned for his boss. He’d never seen Jack look like that. “No, Jack,” Rhys said, feeling even smaller when Jack clenched his fists. “Something’s wrong with you, and I want to know what. I want to help.”

He involuntarily shuddered when Jack chuckled darkly, his head turning to stare at his assistant, pupils fully blown, harboring a bit of red in them, staring down at him as if he were nothing more than dinner to him. “Jack?” He asked softly, taking a shaky gulp, his body shuddering once more, his mind racing at stories of old lore he’d read about beings with red-tinted eyes that drank blood, were allergic to garlic, and had no reflection. The realization officially dawned on him, confirming his suspicions as both of his hands reached up to cup Jack’s face once he’d turned around fully, the clear, inner conflict the CEO was having obvious on his face. “Jack,” He repeated, the heterochromatic eyes staring at Rhys questioningly, his teeth bared, ready to bite. “Are you a vampire?”

Jack chuckled, his lips twisting to a thin smirk. “Took ya long enough, Rhysie,” He answered slowly, the sweet, savory smell of Rhys’s cut finger so close to his nose, to his  _ mouth, _ weighing heavily in his consciousness. “Go home,” He repeated, stepping out of the gentle grasp Rhys had on him; sure it’d gotten  _ his _ attention, but it was undoubtedly overstepping, and his self-control was lacking. He could just bite Rhys, fuck and drain him, and let him die, yet he found that leaving an odd taste of disgust in his mouth. He didn’t  _ want _ to kill Rhys - quite the opposite, actually. He wanted to  _ protect _ Rhys, from himself - no, from harm in general; something he’d never thought he’d feel toward someone again.

Rhys was stubborn as a mule, though, shoving both of them into the closet next to them, his hands pressing against Jack’s chest, door kicking shut behind them. “Rhys,” Jack growled, shooting a glare at his assistant, using every ounce of his willpower to keep from ripping into him, his teeth clenching, hands trembling from the sound of the quickly beating heart.

“I knew something was off when you forgot your cup,” Rhys mumbled, hastily undoing his tie with shaky hands. “You carry that thing with you everywhere, I had a sneaking suspicion a few days after you made me your assistant, but the questions only confirmed it further,” He pressed on, ignoring the hungry stare on him, knowing all too well that his heart was pounding in his chest, most definitely not helping the situation any. Allowing his tie to drape across his shoulders, he unbuttoned a few of the buttons on his blue-button up, staring up at Jack. “You’re hungry, right?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at Rhys’s exposed neck, saying nothing. “Open,” Rhys demanded, holding flesh hand to Jack’s mouth. “If you’re going to bite me, do it without your artificial fangs. And yes, I do know about them. They’re very easy to see when you show your teeth in a smile or snarl,” He added the last part in, referring to the gold injectors on his teeth. Reluctantly, Jack opened his mouth, fighting back the urge to bite down when the injectors disengaged from his teeth with a hiss, blowing a puff of bitter air into his mouth. He wanted to tell Rhys to stop, to run while he still could, however, he found himself unable to, his eyes watching his assistant closely, the erratic heartbeat drawing him in, leaving him in a trance. 

Once the gold injectors were fully disengaged and in his hand, Rhys stared at the sharp, pearly whites, his teeth rolling his bottom lip between them, hands shakily tucking the artificial fangs into Jack’s brown vest pocket, tilting his head back to present his neck to Jack. “Go ahead,” He murmured, closing his eyes. Jack flared his nostrils, the smell drawing him in, his lips pressing against the pale skin of his assistant’s neck, a slight shudder rolling throughout his body at Rhys’s trembling, the heartbeat taunting him, even as he carefully inserted his fangs into his jugular, a low, pleased groan erupting from his own throat as the sweet, spicy liquid flooded his taste buds, the faint moan coming from Rhys filling his ears, the feel of hands on his shoulders clenching him through his many layers forcing his assistant to back closer to the wall, his own hands wandering, grasping desperately at the slender waist. “ _ Hah _ , fuck, please,” Rhys pleaded softly, hips pressing against Jack’s grip, his elevated heartbeat flooding Jack’s mouth with even more of his new, favorite flavor. Retracting his fangs from the jugular, he set out on a mission, needing to hear more moans from the slender man in his grasp, his fangs grazing over various places on the exposed flesh, leaving deep, bleeding bite marks, each one eliciting a gasp, whimper, and/or moan from the squirming male beneath him.

“You’re into this, Kitten?” Jack murmured slowly, his heterochromatic eyes flickering up to the flushed face, taking in the way the lips were formed into a slight pout, eyebrows furrowed, bi-colored eyes burning into his. “Just being chewed up? Like a goddamned toy?” He pressed further, his raspy voice sending shudders through the slender body beneath him.

“God,  _ yes _ ,” Rhys whimpered, his body pressing desperately to the muscular male in front of him. “B-but only with you, Jack,” He managed to pant out, feeling the need to specify he only had this attraction to Jack, his body trembling when the fangs sunk into the hollow of his right shoulder, a loud whimper slipping past his lips.

“Say that again,” He rasped once he retracted his teeth, his body pressing firmly against the slender one beneath him. “Who do you belong to, Rhysie?”

“You, Jack,” He answered sheepishly, body shuddering, fully aware of every single drop of blood running down his neck and collarbone, his head feeling lighter -, probably from the blood loss -, although, right now, he could care less. “Only you.”

“Damn right you’re mine,” He purred lowly, his tongue flicking over the freshly bit, oozing holes, his hands roaming under the blue shirt and dark vest, his senses blinded by the sheer high he was riding from the taste and smell of his assistant’s blood, nose pressing against the base of his neck. Leaving a trail of slight scrapes and harsh nibbles along the front base of Rhys’s neck, he found his way back to the holes in his jugular he’d left, fangs slowly inserting themselves back into the grooves, calloused hands tightly gripping the shivering, slender waist. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of Rhys, hands continuing their exploration of the slender torso beneath him, hearing Rhys practically reveling from the attention and stimulation, his hips pressing firmly against the CEO’s, erection very present once it brushed against his own. 

“Jack,  _ please _ ,” Rhys pleaded, but for what, Jack couldn’t tell, his attention far too drawn into the sweet, spicy taste in his mouth, the soft, grinding against him gradually weakening, the moans growing quieter and quieter by the second. It was only when the blood flow slowed that Jack realized what he was doing. Hastily prying his fangs from the vein, he could feel a small drop of blood dripping down his chin as Rhys slumped over in his arms, chest heaving with every breath, heartbeat faint, sweaty forehead pressing lightly against his clothed chest.

“Rhys?” He asked softly, fear washing over his body. “Kitten?” He questioned a bit firmer, shaking the body carefully, his eyes glancing over the damage he’d done. Although the wounds were easily clotted thanks to some weird vampire bullshit, there was still quite a bit of dried blood everywhere. “C’mon, Pumpkin, say something,” He urged, hand hastily wiping away the wetter blood, feeling the color drain from underneath his mask at the clammy feel of the soft skin. He knew he had to get Rhys to a doctor, yet, how could he without revealing what he was? 

“Jack...,” Rhys slurred from the jostling, opening his eyes just slightly to peer up at him, body still limp and weak. “‘M sleepy,” He mumbled, his head pounding, white noise ringing in his ears, black spots filling his vision before he slumped fully in the CEO’s grasp, leading Jack to a sense of generalized panic. 

He’d grown dependent on Rhys over the course of the month, the smell being a gentle, calming routine of sorts every time he found himself frustrated or angry, and now that Rhys was in his arms, barely alive, he found fear washing over him for the first time in years. “Don’t fall asleep, Rhysie,” He stressed, shaking Rhys again, hand quickly wiping the rest of the blood off that he could, hastily tugging the collar of the blue button-up up to help hide the marks, positioning his arms just enough to push a button on his ECHO watch, hoping the R&D medic had enough knowledge to save his assistant. “Come to my penthouse. Bring iron and saline.  _ Now _ ,” He barked into the watch, hastily exiting the janitorial closet with Rhys in his arms bridal style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ForeverGroaning) | [ Discord](https://discord.gg/EYUVW85)


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re lucky you stopped when you did, Sir,” The R&D medic said, squeezing the bag of iron supplements, staring down at the unconscious, one-armed boy in Jack’s bed. Jack had carefully removed the cybernetic arm after the IV was inserted, ensuring that Rhys wouldn’t be able to accidentally rip it out if he woke up in a blood-loss daze. He’d spent the entire time the medic tended to the assistant examining the soft features of him, the reddish, brown curls resting against the sweaty forehead, skin tone far paler than before, eyes slightly sunken, probably from dehydration; he’d really done a number on the younger male, much to his strong displeasure. “I still strongly advise a blood transfusion -”  
“No, I don’t want him to lose his smell,” Jack shut her down, leg bouncing despite his slouched posture in the chair next to the bed, hands rubbing his face slowly - he knew deep down he should cave and give Rhys the transfusion for a faster recovery, but his pride and selfishness just wouldn’t let him. What if Rhys lost the calming smell he’d grown used to with it? The medic assured him it probably wouldn’t affect the scent any, yet, he was still reluctant, not necessarily wishing to be difficult, but just being selfish. “He was still semi-conscious when I realized and stopped. He’ll be fine with some iron and vitamin C, right? That’s what you said,” He stated quickly, heterochromatic eyes locked on the resting face, an unspoken, ‘for your sake, he _better_ be fine’ in his glare.

“Well, yes, and a very specific diet, but it’ll take a long time for him to come around again,” The medic answered truthfully, tucking a few strands of grey hair behind her ear, adjusting the black, circular rimmed glasses, seemingly mulling over her next choice of words. “Assuming he even wakes up-”  
“He _will_ ,” He snapped, baring his fangs at her. 

She held her hands up in mock surrender. “ _When,”_ She corrected herself, “He wakes up, you should expect _at least_ a four-week downtime before he begins to feel fully like himself,” She explained, staring, unflinching, back into Jack’s menacing stare, before turning her attention back to the machinery laid out in the room, jotting down notes on her clipboard - paper was easy to dispose of, easier to keep secrets with, or at least, that’s how Jack felt about it, and she wasn’t about to try and spark Jack’s wrath. “I will print out a sheet of special dietary needs for you to feed him, Handsome Jack, Sir, however, don’t get your hopes up on him waking up fully for a few days. I will send special supplements - and the list - to your office when I return, to help keep his nutrients and vitamins correct levels, as I don’t see him being able to process solid food for at least a week; the supplements will be given through his IV just as it is now, I’ll ensure specific instructions are on each bag. The half of the healing hypo we issued will help his heart from falling into cardiac failure, but there is not much it can do in terms of extensive blood loss without overloading him with transfusions.”

“Great, that’ll work,” He answered, slowly lowering his lips from a snarl to a thin-lined frown. “I expect this to be kept quiet.”

“Of course, Sir,” She responded, moving to a different machine, jotting down the last of Rhys’s vitals shown on the portable, vital sign monitor. “I will return tomorrow to compare his vitals. If he should worsen before then, and as much as you are against it, I recommend the rest of the healing hypo; there is not much else I will be able to do, even if you call me back,” She added, picking the small, vial of blood off the nightstand. “I will also process this test immediately, to see how he will be affected by your bare fangs. None of your newer victims have reanimated thus far, but since you didn’t _kill_ him _or_ use your guards, there is no promise on how his body will respond.”

“Duly noted,” He grunted, keeping his eyes transfixed on the relaxed face of his assistant, eyes watching the chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, the oxygen mask fogging with each exhale, hardly paying attention to the words the medic was rambling on about. Realizing she wasn’t being listened to, she held back an urge to shake her head, sliding the vital of Rhys’s blood into her coat pocket, setting the pen under the clip of her clipboard, heading toward the front door. Once Jack could hear the front door reengage the locks, confirming that the medic exited the penthouse, he leaned forward, resting his head on the side of his bed, thumbs rubbing slow circles in his forehead with a long sigh.

“Goddammit, Rhysie,” He breathed out in exasperation, his entire body rigid with worry. If - no, _when_ \- Rhys came back around, he’d have to give him something to stop Jack from indulging himself too far, because now that he had had a taste, he didn’t plan to go back to the normal, bitter sustenance he’d been drinking - at least, not fully. And so, it would be so, he decided, standing up abruptly, making his way to his home office, pulling out all of his tools and scraps, mind already racing with thoughts of what it could be - mostly because he needed to stay busy, to keep his mind off the worst-case scenario. It needed to be something that’d hurt Jack, but not _hurt_ him; Rhys was far too soft to seriously injure him. His mind stopped on the collar he had put on Angel, a shaky gulp going down his throat at the thought of his daughter - he really never processed what he’d done to her, until she gave him an ultimatum, release her or she’d find a way to end her life. He didn’t believe her at first, not until those damned bandits came into her enclosure and _nearly_ killed her; he’d concluded then, no matter what it was he was trying to do to keep Pandora safer for her, it wasn’t worth it if she was dead, and therefore, he reluctantly released his hold on her. She still kept in contact, but he knew their relationship would never, ever be the same.

The collar, though. That could be something he could rebuild. He could change the components inside of it to be remote activated by Rhys’s neural implant, maybe even impulsive with a confirmation on the ECHO eye, so when his vitals began to fall too low, it’d sap him back to reality. Of course, he’d have to run a few tests with it, although that could _easily_ be arranged; there were plenty of bandits in Hyperion prisons throughout Pandora he could test this theory on. 

-

Rhys grew worse before he got better, his vitals taking a nosedive the next morning, only to spike back up later, when Jack meticulously hooked up the proper bag, grumbling to himself, mocking the medic’s words - “You have to give this to him on the times I specified or he will get worse and take even longer, or die”; though Jack didn’t dare mock from ‘he will get worse’ onward, his lips falling into a thin line. The day after, though, he’d gotten better, his color returning more and more with each bag, eyes shifting under the closed eyelids, though they hadn’t opened - yet. The test results had been delivered to him, as well. There was no _actual_ change in Rhys’s blood, aside from the obvious lack of red blood cells from Jack’s overindulging - but that could and was being fixed, gradually -, which provided a huge relief off his shoulders.

And by the fifth day, Jack had finished his collar and preliminary testings, hearing some shuffling happening in his bedroom, the annoying beeping he’d grown used to growing erratic. Abandoning what he was working on, he barreled down the long hallway, cursing himself for making it so far from his office, nearly falling on his face at Rhys sitting on the bed, eyes focused on his flesh hand, clenching and unclenching his fist, chest heaving unevenly in panicked breaths, the echo of his heartbeat echoing in Jack’s ears.

“Rhys. Rhysie,” Jack said, approaching the bed quickly, taking the hand in his, Rhys’s eyes shifting to Jack’s immediately, eyes filling with worry. Jack could jump from happiness, seeing life returned back to Rhys’s scrawny body.

“Jack?” Rhys asked, his voice scratchy, throat dry, leading him into a coughing fit for a few seconds, resulting in Jack grabbing a glass off the nightstand in case Rhys _did_ wake up, rushing to fill it with water from the bathroom, plopping a bending straw in the glass. 

“Drink,” He demanded, helping Rhys lower the oxygen mask off his face, holding the straw and glass while Rhys greedily gulped down the water, nearly moaning in the feeling of relief. 

“Where am I?” He finally asked, his voice still harboring slight scratchiness, though it was much better, his bi-colored eyes scanning the room briefly, before landing back on Jack’s worried, masked face.

“You’re in my penthouse, on Helios,” He provided, hand reaching to tuck the few stray curls off of his assistant’s forehead, a slight grin creeping across his lips when he blushed from the gesture. There was his Rhysie. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I…” He furrowed his brows, rubbing his face a bit, his head still throbbing, a slight ringing still echoing in his ears. “I remember I shoved you into the closet and told you to bite me. And you did,” He paused, hesitantly placing his hand back in his lap. “ _A lot_.”

“Guilty as charged,” He teased, resting his large hand on the slender thigh. “You tasted absolutely succulent, I couldn’t stop myself,” He added, moving his hand from the thigh to the smaller hand resting on the blanket, bringing it to his masked lips. Despite the obnoxious, accelerating beeping noise echoing in the room, he could feel the fast heartbeat against his lips, his mouth-watering, remembering the taste of Rhys. “But I did. I almost didn’t. I almost killed you,” He added quietly, his face twisting into a frown.

“But you didn’t,” Rhys finally said, despite his flustered reaction to the weirdly sweet words. “I knew you wouldn’t.”

“Really?” He mused, keeping the smaller hand in his, but letting it rest back on the bed. “Just how long _did_ you know what I was, Pumpkin?”

“I had a suspicion after the first week, like I said in the closet,” He sheepishly admitted, flexing his slender (at least they were slender compared to Jack’s) fingers in the calloused hand. “I realized I was right after I confronted you once you licked my finger. I thought I imagined it, until you hastily left and your eyes did that weird, turning slightly redder thing. Plus, you _really_ shouldn’t have picked gold for your fang guards. They’re obvious,” He added the last part teasingly, chuckling when Jack laughed, his eyes locking onto the fangs protruding from the gums. “They’re not that obvious to some, but I knew,” He added once Jack settled down. “You hovered over me a lot, specifically after a meeting left you frustrated.”

“You smelled nice,” He shrugged. It wasn’t a lie, and Rhys knew it.

“What do I smell like, then?” Rhys questioned, fighting back a smile.

“Like… Jeez, how do I even explain it,” He paused, running his free hand through his messy, brown and grey locks of hair. “You taste like honey spread on a spice cake, but you smell… calming. Welcoming. I guess it’d be,” He hesitated, “Like home,” He finally answered when Rhys gripped his hand. Jack grinned at the pink flooding across his cheeks, purposely showing off his full teeth, noting the way he shuddered at the sight. “So, a biting kink, huh?” He changed the subject quickly, the mushy mood something he didn’t want to dwell on.

“Oh my God, I’m not even awake an hour and you’re already not letting me forget it,” He sighed, but grinned in return, cheeks shifting a bit darker.

“Oh, Rhysie, Kitten,” Jack started slowly, his voice harboring lust and hunger. “You think I’d let you get away from me after you presented yourself on a friggin’ silver platter?”  
“I knew you wouldn’t - assuming you didn’t kill me,” He answered without hesitation, though the way Jack stared at him predatorily had aroused his shaft slightly, unfortunately furthering his headache. “I do have a biting kink,” He finally answered, deciding he needed to answer this _now_ , rather than later, even more so with the headache quickly approaching. “I just. Not with just anyone. I just pictured you biting me a lot, drinking from me and it just,” He hesitated, trying to find the words.

Jack searched the younger’s face, humming in acknowledgment, gem-colored eyes staring at Rhys expectantly. “It excited you?” He questioned when Rhys couldn’t piece his thoughts together.

“In a sense,” He mused, flickering his gaze back to the heterochromatic one boring into him, admiring the emerald and sapphire staring into him. “I don’t know how to explain it, Jack. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

Jack stayed quiet, eyes searching the pouty face. “Alright,” He finally said, a few minutes later, pulling his hand from Rhys, chuckling when Rhys reached out to grab it. 

“Don’t leave me,” He stated quickly, his heart rate picking up speed on both the monitor and from what Jack could feel from his touch.

“I’m not leaving you. I’m going to cook us dinner, so you can eat, y’know, real food and not some liquid shit R&D made up for you,” He responded, turning toward him.

“I don’t want to be left alone in the bed,” He insisted, though his stomach growled loudly in agreeance, deciding to try his luck with brattiness. “And I could really use a shower.”

“You can _bathe_ after dinner,” He argued, correcting Rhys. “I don’t think you’re in any state to be walking or standing.”

“Then, carry me,” He suggested with a sly smirk, testing the waters with Jack’s patience.

“Bratty isn’t a good look on you, Cupcake,” He retorted with an amused snort.  
“It’s your fault I’m like this, after all.”  
Sliding his hand out of Rhys’s grip, his eyes darkened, regarding Rhys cautiously for a few, silent moments. “I know it’s my fault, Rhys,” He said quietly, face flickering with regret. “I didn’t intend on biting you until I got, y’know, _bored_ of you,” He lied, though Rhys flinched like it was the truth. “But I never did, and then, you went, and got yourself a goddamn papercut. And wouldn’t leave me alone when I told you to.”

“Jack, I didn’t mean it like that,” He said quickly, brows knitting together. “I gave you permission to do this, it’s my fault, really. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about it,” He rambled on quickly, cheeks flooding crimson. “I enjoyed it, please don’t feel guilty.”

Jack hummed quietly at the last, hastily added on part, turning himself to face the young, incapacitated boy fully, hands resting on either side of him. “I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time,” He whispered in a promising tone, smirking when Rhys’s body shuddered at the thought, his tongue gliding across the tips of his fangs, mouth hanging open just enough to show the motion off, only with the intention to tease Rhys - and it worked wonderfully, the wanting whine coming from him satisfying Jack. For now. “Anyway, if you get any skinnier, I’m certain I’d just swallow you whole,” He taunted, moving away from the blushing boy, glad he’d been sipping on imported blood before Rhys woke up. “You lost a lot of weight, Pumpkin. We’ll have to put that back on you.”

“Yes, Jack,” He finally mumbled, lying himself back down, the room spinning around him. He’d gotten far too excited too early, he assumed, judging by the painful erection he knew he was sporting just from the pressure in his head alone, though, he secretly thanked Jack for not pointing it out, hearing Jack retreating down the hall.

-

“So,” Jack started, feeding Rhys a bite of the red-meat steak, his own steak resting in front of him on the bar. “Should I say I’m hunting when I go to bite you, since you always want to pitch a tent?” He mused laughing when Rhys scowled, his lips pursing together in a pout, brows furrowing downward in a huff. “C’mon, Pumpkin. That was a great one!” He exclaimed, carefully scooping some beans up in the next bite, holding it to the pouty mouth, grinning when Rhys complied, even if it was reluctant, his flesh hand drumming against the marble-covered bar.

Rhys should’ve been used to Jack cracking dick jokes by now. It’d been nearly a month and a half, and although he felt considerably better, Jack still kept his distance aside from feeding him and sleeping. The R&D medic stopped by less and less these days, taking a small vial of blood with her twice a week for ‘tests’, although Jack never elaborated what for, and honestly? He was thankful for that. The repercussions of offering himself as a personal blood bank to the CEO had never occurred to him until nearly two weeks after, more specifically, not until he had awoken to Jack lying next to him, arm wrapped around his waist, face buried against the nape of his neck, lightly nibbling his skin, whispering nonsense against his back while he slept. His fangs never penetrated his skin, but they did scrape lightly, leaving Rhys trembling and aroused, wanting  _ more _ . 

Jack, on the other hand, had been considerably thoughtful of Rhys, surprisingly. Hand feeding him even after he could feed himself, always bringing him various juices high in vitamin C, even some smoothies that were absolutely horrendous some days, being weird mixes of spinach or carrots - things he never wanted to have as a liquid drink ever again -, but still, the thought was there - and Jack never made a remake of smoothies if Rhys made a face, thankfully for him. He helped Rhys into the bathtub and out, helping him dry off, even helping him attach his arm when he couldn’t take the feeling of missing a limb. He was still hooked up to an IV, supplying him with a very, very low dosage of iron throughout the day, and although Jack was finally letting him move around, he found he had to rely on using the stand as a means to help him keep his balance, finding himself lightheaded if he moved too quickly, but it was better than the first day. After all, the first day he tried to walk, he promptly nearly fell on his face. Though, much to his appreciation, Jack wasn’t far and caught him before he fell too far, and Rhys definitely did not (he did) get a nice handful of toned muscle in the arms that he fell into, nor did he get an ill-timed boner (he definitely did) from the dirty thoughts running through his mind.

“Why are you taking care of me?” He finally asked, having zoned out during the entire time he was being fed apparently, seeing as Jack was now busy on his own, extremely rare steak.

“Because I want to,” He answered with a ‘and that’s just how it’s going to be’ tone, plopping a bite of steak into his mouth, seemingly pondering over his words while he chewed. “Because I  _ can _ . Vampire bullshit aside, you’re  _ actually _ a pretty decent PA, and it’s been a  _ long _ time since I actually had someone competent be my assistant,” He added, smiling at Rhys, purposely showing off one of the fangs, admiring the shudder that flowed through the slender man next to him. “Sure, you’re a little horny bitch, but you don’t put your lust above your job.”

“Oh my God, you just  _ had _ to add that on, didn’t you?” He said in displeasure, scrunching his face up, feeling the heat flooding across his cheeks and down his neck. 

“Sure did, Kitten. It’s cute to see you turn so friggin’ red,” He stated nonchalantly, cutting another piece of his steak, shoving it into his mouth, quietly chewing, listening to the quick heartbeat coming from the younger male next to him. “How are you feeling?” He finally asked, continuing to rip into the nearly raw steak, glancing at Rhys from the corner of his eyes.

“I feel fine,” He huffed, turning his attention away from Jack, propping his cybernetic arm up on the bar, resting his warm, blushing face in the cool metal of his hand, flesh fingers drumming lightly against the marble. “Aside from worrying about the impending, extra workload I’ll have ahead of me once you  _ finally _ allow me to go back to work.”

“I told you not to worry about that,” He provided, licking his bloodied lips with his tongue once he’d finished, before wiping it with a napkin. “I was CEO long before your pretty, long-legged self waltz into my life.”

“ _ I _ didn’t waltz into  _ your _ life,  _ you _ waltz into  _ mine _ ,” He retaliated, though he was smiling now, chuckling only when Jack did. After a few more moments of quiet chewing, Jack stood up, collecting the dirty dishes, stepping around the IV stand, glancing at the near-empty saline bag. Setting the dishes in the sink, he input a command for a cleaner bot to construct itself on the edge of the kitchen, holding his hand out to Rhys. 

“Your bag is almost empty, we should change it.”

“Jack, I feel fine, I don’t think I need it.”

“I’m not taking that chance, Pumpkin,” He stated matter-of-factly, smirking when Rhys sighed in defeat, placing his slender hand in Jack’s large one, allowing him to help him stand. He glanced up at Jack, meeting the hungry, heterochromatic eyes burning into him, shuddering when Jack leaned down, nosing along the hollow of his neck. “God, you smell so delicious again,” He murmured, the idea of Jack biting him again resulting in a soft, wanting whimper to escape his lips. Indulging both of them, he slowly drug his fangs over the pale flesh, smirking at the elevated heart rate, the soft, needy moan resting heavily on his ears. Slipping his tongue from between his lips, he trailed along the base of Rhys’s neck, chuckling when there were feeble smacks against his shoulders.

“ _ Stop _ ,” Rhys whined when Jack pulled away, despite the firmness in his tone, his lips forming that delicious pout he regularly seemed to give. “Stop teasing me, Jack. Just - Jesus Christ,” He sighed, rubbing his face, calming it down with the gesture. “I can’t take this never-ending teasing. Either bite me or stop teasing me, you’re driving me insane.” He finally said with a huff, turning his back to the CEO, hand lightly gripping the IV stand, pulling it with him as he sulked off to the bedroom, leaving Jack standing there with an amused smirk. 

Rubbing his chin, he played with the clasp on his chin, determining that he’d call the R&D medic up one, last time to make sure Rhys was healthy enough for him to taste him - and other things -, plus, he was itching to try out the new collar, or more specifically, taste that spicy, sweet blood once again. Sauntering toward his office, he closed the door, gathering his things he’d need - assuming Rhys was cleared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ForeverGroaning) | [ Discord](https://discord.gg/EYUVW85)


	4. Chapter 4

Rhys wasn’t _quite_ ready, much to Jack’s displeasure. The medic - Nora, she had said her name was in passing to Rhys -, said another two weeks (though she told Rhys he was fine for Jack to drink a small amount from him now, however, she wouldn’t risk it until he was _fully_ recovered - and given how much he’d teased Rhys, Rhys just huffed and smirked, agreeing with her) and he’d be back to how he was previously, which left Jack in a horrid mood, grumbling to himself every time the intoxicating smell filled his nostrils - the smell had gotten much stronger over the last, almost two, months. He still had the imported blood, but nothing compared to his Rhysie’s. Rhys was moving more, as well, spreading his scent throughout the entire penthouse, leading Jack to be even more dependent on his little assistant, often pulling him into his arms to sniff around his neck, giving gentle, lingering kisses, fangs scraping just slightly against the pale skin from time to time - each time earning a pained groan from Rhys; it was clear he was holding himself back as much as Jack had been, and Jack wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or weirded out by the weird, biting kink Rhys seemingly had.

They’d tested the collar out a couple of times, per his request to Rhys. To convince the younger man to insert a program into his head had been unsurprisingly easy, it was just the testing that had him worried. He adorned the thin, reworked, black collar around his neck, ignoring all of the remarks Rhys made, except the two that made him snort from laughter: ‘a little dog Rhys could lead around with a leash’ and ‘he should buy a muzzle for Jack to keep him from biting him’. After all, he figured he deserved that much given the situation at hand. And it was pretty frickin’ hilarious to him - and apparently to Rhys, given how Rhys would laugh with him and smile with twinkling eyes. When the emergency protocol program was installed into Rhys’s headport and Jack was ready, he softly nipped and licked at Rhys’s finger, until Rhys forced a distress signal that resulted in a shock around his neck - it didn’t hurt him, however, it did make him stop what he was doing. They’ve done this a few other times, each one different situations - one where Jack cornered Rhys - and even though Rhys unsurprisingly popped a tent in his pants, much to Jack’s sheer delight - into a corner where he couldn’t get out, and one where he got dangerously close to forgetting it was a test and _almost_ actually bit him. The latter wasn’t hard to fake panic, since Rhys was understandably excited, yet worried that Jack was going to take too much at once.

Now that the extra two weeks had passed, Jack had Rhys backed into a corner, his heterochromatic eyes harboring the red tint, green eye lighter than the blue one, his face buried against the base of the smaller male’s throat, breathing heavily against it, large hands roaming his body. “Rhys, please,” He pleaded, asking for permission before he bit, wanting to ensure Rhys was feeling well enough more than anything - he wouldn’t want him collapsing on him again. “Can I?” He questioned further, teeth scraping along the skin, earning himself a shudder from the slender frame. “Please, can I?”

“N-no, Jack,” Rhys managed to gasp out under the insistent groping, fighting the urge to press himself against the towering body pressing against him. When Jack slid his hand down to cup the gradually growing erection, he pressed hard into the open hand, sighing out in delight, needing relief - he hadn’t exactly been able to take care of his frustrations with Jack watching him like a hawk these last two months.

“Why?” He questioned, hand meeting each of the soft thrusts, fingers grasping around the girth, teeth scraping against his jugular, each breath coming from the withering male daring him to penetrate the flesh and take what was his. “You told me you belong to me, why can’t I take it?”

“B-because,” He breathed out, face flaring from the possessive comment, a moan escaping his throat when Jack grasped him roughly, palming him through the overly large sweatpants he was borrowing, head tilted back, baring his neck to Jack, which only furthered the older man’s need. “I s-said s-so,” He finally managed to stutter on, groaning when the fangs scraped his skin, nearly drawing blood. He wasn’t sure what had happened, he was standing up, getting him something to drink from the refrigerator, when Jack had stormed in behind him, gripping, spinning, and pinning him against the countertop next to the refrigerator, lips attacking his neck hungrily, though, he never actually bit down to penetrate his skin.

“Rhysie,” He groaned against the slender neck, pressing his own, throbbing erection against Rhys’s, trying his best to nibble at the skin without penetrating it. “Please, Kitten. God, I - I just - I need you,” He finally groaned out, head turning to rest against the loose shirt resting on the slender shoulder, biting back the urge to just bite, drink, and mark what was his. He’d been fine one second, sitting in his office, doing his tasks from afar, when the smell just overwhelmed him all at once, and he _needed_ it at that second. He wouldn’t take it without asking, he wasn’t some kind of frickin’ monster - or bandit -, he’d wait until Rhys consented. Or until he lost himself to the craving, whichever came first.

Rhys shuddered, shoving against Jack’s chest flesh hand moving to grasp the IV stand next to him, shakily steadying himself. “I’m not letting you feed from me while I’m hooked up to this,” He finally provided, flinching at Jack staring at him like a kicked puppy. He was mostly done with his IV treatments, prior to wandering into the kitchen. He’d just finished the last one, but he wasn’t sure how to remove it without accidentally making himself bleed, therefore, he didn’t bother to try. “I don’t want it to accidentally rip out of my hand. Nor do I want to be trapped against this hard countertop, it hurts,” To prove a point, he lifted the back of his shirt, showing the angry, red indent left in his skin from the sheer force Jack was pinning him. Jack huffed, hungry, pupil-blown eyes watching as Rhys made his way toward his bedroom, his feet following close behind the smaller man’s, like a beast hunting every single movement from its prey. 

“I swear, I need to get a leash to attach to your collar if you’re just going to follow me around like a lost puppy,” Rhys provided with a joking tone, trying to snap Jack out of his trance, yet it didn’t work - Jack just stared at Rhys, semi-patiently waiting for permission, his tongue darting from between his lips, moistening them. Sighing in defeat, Rhys held his right hand out to the CEO, taking a seat on the bed. “Remove this, then you can. _Carefully_ remove it, in case I need it again later,” He instructed. Jack didn’t hesitate, hands already shakily removing the needle from the tinier hand, even as Rhys explained, eyes nearly bulging out of his head at the few drops of blood that crept out from the removal, his large hand bringing it to his lips, licking it up with an audible moan, relishing in the taste again. “Take your fake fangs out,” He demanded further, prying his hand back from the hungry CEO. “Please.”

“They’re not in,” He admitted, baring his fangs to Rhys to prove a point, a shark-like grin taking over his masked face at the visible shudder coming from his prey, his tongue trailing over his lips again. “Can I? Rhys?” He pleaded again, resting his arms on either side of Rhys, following him back when he crawled backward a bit, both of them now in the middle of the large, cloud-soft bed. 

“Yes, Jack,” Rhys answered, presenting his neck to the hungry vampire, tilting his head back and to the side, giving him the perfect angle to bite. He didn’t even hesitate, fangs sinking into the jugular, shoving Rhys down against the bed as he drank, both of the men moaning - Rhys from the idea of being chewed up like a toy again, and Jack just from the taste alone. “N-not too fast,” Rhys corrected him, cybernetic hand tangling in the grey and brown hair, tugging on it harshly after a few seconds of his ravenous drinking. Jack growled in response, but slowed his sucking, leaving his just fangs in the delicious, protruding vein, tongue cleaning every drop that trickled out, hands moving to grasp both of his arms, slamming them down above their heads.

Retracting his fangs from the vein, he licked over the two holes slowly, smirking at Rhys shaking beneath him, reveling in the tiny moan escaping the slender boy. “I nearly forgot,” Jack offered no other explanation at his words, hands moving to grasp the bottom of one of his large, Hyperion sweater swallowing Rhys beneath him, tugging it over his head when Rhys leaned up to assist, tossing it elsewhere in the room. Bringing his lips to the hollow of his neck, he gave a sharp bite exactly where he’d bit before, just barely digging the tips of his fangs past the skin, smirking when Rhys not only flinched, but moaned, his tongue excitedly lapping up the small bit of blood seeping out. He could hear Rhys’s heart pounding in his chest, the bi-colored eyes staring up at him doe-eyed when he pulled away, face a bright crimson, and, of course, a very obvious tent in his pants again. “You’re such a kinky bitch, Rhysie,” He said with a smirk, hands grasping at the waistband of the sweatpants, tugging them off with ease once Rhys lifted his hips. “ _My_ kinky bitch,” He added on possessively, his large, right hand grasping the twitching erection.

“God, _yes,_ ” He moaned out, feeling the warm, calloused touch grasping him, hips twitching slightly, wanting more. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down before he accidentally shocked Jack, his teeth rolling his bottom lip as a soft moan escaped him, feeling the large hand moving against him, lazily jacking him off.

“Say you’re mine, Kitten. Only mine,” He rasped against Rhys’s ear, teeth dragging against the pale flesh, leaving soft nibbles here and there, before he bit down harshly near his Adam’s apple, closing his eyes when the flavor he adored flooded his mouth, the strangled moan coming from the squirming man beneath him. He could feel each pulse from the heart under his lips, his own erection throbbing impatiently in his pants, longing to be free. 

“I’m yours, Jack,” Rhys breathed out through a strained moan, his hips thrusting upward when Jack ran his thumb over his sensitive tip, his eyes squeezing shut even more, body trembling.

“ _Say it_ ,” He demanded, prying his fangs from Rhys, stopping his hand while his eyes stared down at the withering male expectantly, taking in the view of the slightly parted lips, eyes shut in pure bliss. “Look me in the eyes and say it, Princess.”

“I-I’m - _mmph_ \- o-only y-yours, J-Jack,” He managed to gasp out, stammering on each word, his eyes staring up at Jack hungrily, practically mirroring the CEO’s stare. “Fuck, Jack-,” He groaned out soon after, head falling back against the bed when Jack began to work his cock again as a reward, his hips desperately trying to move to meet the movements, yet were held still by Jack’s free hand pushing down on him. “Please, please,” He pleaded, flesh arm moving to cover his closed eyes, needing just a bit more stimulation to reach his peak, embarrassment on his face.

“Please, what, Princess?” He mused, lips kissing the few bite marks he’d left on the pale flesh, moving down to the heaving chest, teeth grazing lightly against the tattooed breast, tongue flicking over the rosy bud, smirking when it came to full attention. 

“God, I just - I don’t know! Just, _please_ ,” He whined out, his thoughts jumbled, tears filling his eyes, daring to pour. He knew what he wanted, he wanted Jack to fuck him into the mattress, but he couldn’t will his mouth to say it, and with Jack lazily wanking him off while biting and nibbling him everywhere, it made it even harder for him to string words together.

Jack hummed in amusement, eyes flickering in delight, listening to the rapidly beating heart in his partner’s chest, fangs slowly sinking into the soft tissue around the areola, both hands moving to grasp the slender hips as they thrust beneath him, wanting _more_. Shutting his eyes, he basked in the needy moan erupting from Rhys, staying stationary while Rhys squirmed, waiting for him to calm down. Once calm, he carefully licked up the sweet, spicy blood that poured out the holes, fangs retracting from the hole carefully, not wanting to make it even worse than it was, even though Rhys whined and whimpered, cybernetic hand fisting the duvet beneath them, flesh hand covering his eyes, wiping the tears away.

“What’s wrong, Rhys?” He asked with surprising gentleness. “Do you want me to stop?” Rhys shook his head quickly, hips pressing upward and against the clothed erection. “You want my cock, Kitten?” He mused slowly, flicking a dangerous grin at Rhys when he picked his head up to stare at Jack, face darkening even more than Jack thought would be possible. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” He repeated in a chant, tone not matching the tears that’d crept down his cheeks, hips arching to press even harder against Jack’s, bare ass rubbing against his clothed erection more frantically. “ _Please_ , Jack. I need you,” He panted out, groaning when Jack pulled away, head falling back against the bed in a whine. 

“Damn right you do,” He whispered in a husky tone, satisfied that Rhys wasn’t overwhelmed - at least, not enough to stop -, moving himself between the long legs, lips pressing against the right thigh. “I’m going to bite you here, you little slut,” He stated, smirking at Rhys’s whine, seeing the poor boy’s cock twitch angrily at either the degradation or the excitement of being bit - it didn’t matter to him which it was. Carefully, he positioned his lips at the upper part of his thigh, easily finding the saphenous vein, fangs slowly burying themselves in it, his eyes closing as the warm liquid filled his mouth again. He drank hungrily, all sense of his control thrown out the window from both the taste and smell of what was _his_ , the moan, mixed with barely audible ‘fuck, Jack, please’ coming from Rhys filling him with delight. 

Gliding his tongue along the salty skin, adding an interesting flavor to the sweet, spicy liquid sliding down his throat, he dug his fangs further in, indulging himself far more than he intended. “J-Jack, w-wait,” Rhys managed to stutter out, squirming as a slight lightheaded feeling fell over him, his heart pounding in his chest, body sweaty from both arousal and blood loss. Without warning, Jack pulled away, letting out a string of curses, tongue slowly dragging over the holes, eyes flickering to Rhys squirming slightly above him, erection pink and twitching. 

Moving himself up, he cupped Rhys’s cheek, searching the sweaty, slightly flushed face beneath him. “Still good, Kitten?” He asked softly, the shock from the collar doing _exactly_ what he intended, stopping him when Rhys grew too distressed.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I need a minute, please,” Rhys answered, cybernetic hand moving to grip his hot forehead, a soft moan of relief coming from him at the cold touch. Jack carefully wiped the stray tears off of the pale cheeks with his thumbs before he moved off of Rhys, using his ‘minute’ to tug his worn, Hyperion sweater over his head, daring a glance at the chewed up boy lying in his bed, a slight smirk on his face, despite Rhys keeping his eyes closed. “‘M just lightheaded,” He added quietly after a few moments, feeling Jack’s eyes burning into him. 

“Do you need to stop?”

“No. Absolutely not,” He answered without hesitation, eyes staying closed, despite his answer. “Just,” He took a shaky gulp. “No more drinking. Please.”

“I find it adorable that you said ‘drinking’ and not ‘biting’,” Jack mused, unbuckling his belt.

“Y’know what? I changed my mind, I’m done for tonight,” Rhys joked with a huff, sitting up to stare at Jack, a pouty expression spread across his lips, though it quickly faded when his eyes scanned over the scarred, tanned body in front of him, tongue darting from between his lips slowly.

“You’re ‘done’, huh?” He questioned, placing both of his arms on either side of Rhys, face dangerously close to the blushing boy. “Your heartbeat says otherwise, Kitten,” He teased, lips hovering just above the plush, pouty ones. “Not to mention your, uh,” He paused, gesturing at the erection pressing just barely against his stomach.

“You’re an insufferable bastard,” Rhys said with a grin, a playful glint in his eyes, cybernetic hand shoving Jack’s face close to his, bringing their lips together in a far too messy kiss. 

“Ah-ah, language,” Jack murmured against Rhys’s lips, fangs dragging lightly against the bottom lip, chuckling when Rhys mewled against his lips, his long, slender arms wrapping around his torso, pulling Jack down on top of him fully, hips angled up to rest against his clothed erection. “Hang on, Princess,” Jack whispered against his lips, giving one last quick kiss, carefully untangling himself from the lanky man. 

“God, Jack, please,” He whined, shaking his hips a bit, bottom lip rolling between his teeth needing more from Jack. 

“I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry,” He reassured, leaning back on his knees to fish some lubricant from the nightstand drawer. He chuckled to himself, hearing Rhys’s heart rate speed up at the sight of the lube, his tongue darting between his lips, eyeing Jack hungrily. “Turn over,” He commanded, shoving his pants down fully, a sigh of relief rolling off his lips while Rhys obeyed, carefully turning over, positioning his rear in the air, head resting lightly against the soft blanket. “Look at you, on display for me, like such a _good_ little boy,” He purred, popping the lube open, squirting a bit on his hand.

Rhys mewled at the praise, his eyes shutting while he buried his face against the inviting blanket, resisting the urge to just finish himself off and go to sleep because Jack was taking his sweet time and he was getting agitated as the minutes ticked on. That is, until he felt a pressure on his tight hole, his back arching, teeth biting down on the blanket to hold in a whimper even as he pushed back, wanting more. 

“You want it that bad?” Jack asked, pressing his bare chest against Rhys’s naked back, prodding at the tight ring, massaging it with just enough pressure to keep himself from sliding in.

“Please, please, please,” He responded with chanting pleads, back arching to further apply pressure behind him, practically demanding Jack to enter him already. He kept his eyes closed as he nuzzled against the blanket, hands grasping at it tightly when _finally_ , he felt the burning stretch, a muffled moan coming from him. 

“You’re so tight, Kitten,” He murmured against the back of his ear, working his finger around, massaging the tight muscle, free hand grasping the firm ass snugly, spreading his cheeks. Deciding he was satisfied with the small stretch, he began to move his finger in and out, enjoying the squelching noise coming from the lube combined with the panting moans echoing off the bedroom walls each time he brushed his finger against the squirming male’s prostate. Nuzzling his face against the nape of his neck, he drug his fangs across the skin, chuckling when Rhys jumped slightly, panting heavily against the duvet.

“ _H-hah,_ please,” He whined out, tilting his head forward to expose the back of his neck more.

“You’re such a filthy boy, aren’t you?” He cooed lowly, but nevertheless, bit down where he previously drug his fangs, purposely sinking them in just slightly, not wanting to make Rhys collapse _again_. Sex with someone unconscious - and not in the fun, sleeping way - wasn’t _that_ fun. 

“Only for - _mmh -_ you, Jack,” He managed to gasp out when Jack brushed his prostate again, feeling the pressure of another finger pressing against his hole previously, before it slid inside, his back arching as a sharp moan came from him, muscles tensing around the fingers. Even with just two fingers, he felt full, his painfully hard, neglected cock twitching in agreement. 

“That’s right, Princess,” He whispered smoothly, teeth dragging across the flesh on his shoulder. “You’re only _mine_ ,” He stated, shoving the entire length of his two fingers inside of the tight hole, groaning at both the clenching muscles and loud moan coming from the squirming man beneath him, teeth burying into the skin, the taste of blood creeping across his tongue again, however, he pulled out before he could be tempted to drink, slowly licking the few drops of blood up with ease. “God, you’re so delicious,” He purred, his own thickened girth throbbing angrily between the slender thighs. 

Rhys squirmed just slightly, shuddering when he felt Jack’s erection pressing against his freshly-bitten, sensitive skin of his thigh, hands fisting at the duvet beneath him, sweaty face resting against the surprisingly cool blanket. Jack chuckled quietly against Rhys’s shoulder, lips grazing along the sweaty bend of his neck, tongue leaving a slobbery trail against the salty skin. Jack could feel beads of sweat running against his chest, the mewling boy squirming beneath him, a string of pleads coming from him each time he purposely brushed against his prostate, his heterochromatic eyes taking in the flushed face, slight drool line running down his chin, eyes shut in pure ecstasy, chuckling to himself again. Rhys looked absolutely fucked out, and he hadn’t even fucked him yet. “You ready for my cock, Rhysie?” He questioned, voice smooth as velvet against the squirming man’s ear, slowly pulling his fingers out and away, storing the desperate whines to memory for later.

“God, yes, please, I need you,” Rhys rambled out quickly, feeling empty without Jack’s large fingers inside of him, his ass wiggling in the air. Feeling a harsh sting on his ass, he let out a gasping moan, the calloused hand rubbing the handprint he’d left.

“Be still, you little slut,” He demanded, causing Rhys to visibly shudder, but stilled his body as much as he could, a soft squeak coming from him when he heard the top of the lubricant pop open again. 

“Please, please, please,” He chanted out, trembling when he felt the head of Jack’s cock pressing against his hole, his hips pressing back, encouraging him to enter.

“Two of my fingers and you’re still so tight,” Jack taunted, gradually edging himself inside, both men moaning loudly while he buried himself to his hilt inside the tight hole. “Jesus _fuckin’_ Christ,” He panted out, large hands roaming the slender body, grasping at the clammy skin.

“S-so big,” Rhys whined out, head falling against the cool, silk duvet, eyes shut in pure bliss, hips moving just slightly, trying to encourage Jack to move.

“Keep moving and I’m gonna fuck you into this mattress,” Jack threatened, his head tilted back, enjoying the snug fit around his thickened length.

“Oh God, _please_ ,” Rhys shuddered, pressing his ass flat against Jack’s hips, earning a low chuckle from the CEO.

“I don’t wanna hear you’re sore tomorrow, Kitten,” He stated, slowly pulling his hips backward, hands grasping the slender hips tightly, undoubtedly leaving bruises on the fair skin, his hips slamming forward, both men groaning again - Jack’s low and deep while Rhys let out a high, whining moan, his body trembling, hands fisting at the blanket again. He felt full of Jack, and he loved every slight movement the CEO made above him, his back arching, angling his hips into the firm grip, moans growing louder when he brushed against his prostate, the warmth of his bare, scarred chest resting against his sweaty back, hands moving to grasp both of Rhys’s wrists, holding him down, the cold, metal of his chin clip pressing against his shoulder, sending a slight shudder through his body, Jack’s warmth oddly comforting, despite the harsh thrusts his hips were giving him.

Jack groaned, feeling Rhys tighten around him, his hips snapping forward with more aggression, positioning himself to his prostate with each thrust, hands tightly grasping the slender wrists in front of him, lips pressing against the side of the bloodied, sweaty neck. “God, you feel so frickin’ amazing, Baby,” He murmured out against the clammy skin, teeth intentionally grazing a pair of holes he previously left. “You were just made for me, huh? Made to take my cock?”

“Y - _hah -_ yes, Jack,” He managed to breathe out through his moans, hand tensing beneath the firm grip on his wrist, hips arching upward, wanting Jack to hit his prostate dead on and not just graze it. Jack bit down roughly on the side of his neck, exactly in the middle of the black, circular tattoos, tongue lapping up the blood that trickled out, hips slamming harder and faster with the newfound angle, granting Rhys’s wish, girth hitting his prostate dead-on each time, practically abusing it. Rhys pressed back, body shuddering as he fought Jack’s grip, needing just a little more stimulation to reach his release, his voice slurred as he spoke, “Please, please, let me cum,” He managed to speak out, hearing Jack’s acknowledging hum against his neck, fangs retracting fully, his moving himself backward, despite Rhys’s feeble whines at the loss of heat, his hand slowly caressing up his arm as he moved up, finding its place around his throat, giving it a harsh squeeze as he began to lift the slender body upward, feeling the drool rolling down his chin, a smirk on his face.

“You wanna cum? I’ll make you cum,” He whispered promisingly to Rhys, teeth burying themselves into his shoulder, hand squeezing Rhys’s windpipe tightly, forcing all of the loud moans erupting from him to sound more strangled than usual - which, technically, he _was_ mildly strangling him, after all.

Rhys shuddered, his back pressing backward, wanting to feel Jack’s warm chest against him again, sweat drops running down his sweaty body, his hips thrusting forward when a large, calloused hand grasped his painful erection, lazily jacking him off, the thrusts behind him growing more precise with their movements, hitting Rhys just right each time, his head lolling back, resting against Jack’s shoulder, his throat raw from all his forced moans, desperate to scream out, yet the firm grip on his throat taking his breath away made it hard. Feeling a familiar sense of pleasure building, he opened his mouth, moaning as his hips pitifully thrust forward in Jack’s hand, his seed spurting from his tip, all over his stomach and the large hand.

Jack took the opened mouth expression as a chance to slide his index finger into Rhys’s slobbery mouth, feeling him shut his lips down on it obediently, giving it a gentle suck while lavishing his finger with attention with his tongue, each thrust still earning moans and groans from the twink underneath him. 

Feeling himself nearing his own climax, Jack bit down harshly just shy of the nape of his neck, fangs digging considerably deep into the flesh and muscle, his own, low, growling moan erupting from his chest, hips thrusting roughly and out of sync, his climax squirting out inside of the tight hole. “J-Jack,” Rhys moaned out around his finger, a soft shock coming from the collar - a warning he’d enabled when Rhys was beginning to get overwhelmed -, forcing him to retract his fangs from his delectable assistant. Prying his finger from the relaxed jaw, he carefully lowered the two of them down, taking his time to pull himself out.

Both of them panted heavily as Jack collapsed next to him, right hand resting over his face, scowling at the idea of having to clean his mask later from all the sweat residue once Rhys fell asleep. “You good, Rhysie?” He managed to ask out, cracking his fingers apart to gaze at the clearly exhausted, fucked out figure lying face down next to him.

“Mm,” Was all Rhys had to say, his eyes staying shut, grin on his face. “Just perfect,” He finally mumbled after a few seconds, cracking his brown eye open to gaze at the CEO staring at him with a smirk. Jack threw his arm out, motioning for Rhys to scoot in - to which he happily complied, inhaling the familiar scent mixed with sex, sighing in delight. They were both sweaty, but neither one seemed to care as they laid there, Rhys curled up to Jack, Jack’s large, muscular arm wrapped around Rhys, holding him close, soft, sweet little praises coming from Jack as he commended him for being such a good boy and not shocking him more than necessary.

“I’m never lettin’ you go, Rhysie,” He stated with an odd sense of possessiveness, breaking out of the sweet praises trance.

Rhys chuckled, cheeks darkening from the words. “Then we’re getting you a muzzle. You can’t just chew me up _that_ badly, even if I do like it. I’m gonna be sore for days.”

“Who’s fault is that? You’re the one who told me to bite you,” He taunted back, hand running along his spine, humming slightly.

“I didn’t mean for you to treat me like a chew toy.”

“You loved it.”

“Okay, and?” He huffed, turning his head to stare at Jack’s relaxed face, a sly smirk on his face, blood smeared on his mask around his lips. He licked his thumb, meticulously wiping the blood off his mask.

“We’ll get a muzzle, then,” Jack finally conceded, far too sated to argue, sporting a toothy grin as Rhys cleaned him, licking his thumb when he felt it press against his lips. “Though, I do think I told ya I didn’t wanna hear your gripin’ about being sore,” He questioned, cracking his emerald eye to gaze down at the pouting boy.

“You’re going to regret agreeing to that. I can see you arguing about it already,” He mumbled, nuzzling his face against the sweaty, scarred chest, right hand carefully tracing a long scar across his stomach. Jack didn’t respond with more than a chuckle, his eyes remaining shut, hand still gingerly caressing along his little partner’s spine, listening to the relaxed heartbeat next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope y'all enjoyed it!  
> It's definitely going to be at least a two part series, maybe three.
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ForeverGroaning) | [ Discord](https://discord.gg/EYUVW85)

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ForeverGroaning) | [ Discord](https://discord.gg/EYUVW85)


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